


IRL

by PinkPandorafrog



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aromantic, F/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 18:45:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3457811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkPandorafrog/pseuds/PinkPandorafrog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy enjoys FPS, especially with her gaming buddy Mack. But why is Coulson at her door?</p>
            </blockquote>





	IRL

“Ugh. Epic fucking fail!” Darcy exclaimed into her mic. “Seriously, why do they even bother?”

The deep chuckle came over her headset. “To piss you off?”

“Thanks, Mack. Super appreciate it.” She was smiling though, his laugh always made her smile. She rested her controller on her knee. “Up for another match, or do you need to go?” That was the most frustrating part of gaming with Mack, he had such an unreliable schedule. She'd actually set up an email notification for whenever he logged on.

“I have a few minutes before I need to go, but not long enough for another match.” His regret carried clearly through the headset, and she sighed.

“Figures. You always have to go right when we get to the good part. Probably why we haven't had phone sex yet. Well, headset sex.” She was mostly teasing. Mostly. Not that she hadn't thought about it- his voice was knee-spreadingly deep and sexy as hell.

He chuckled again. “That and my roommates. Not exactly a whole lot of privacy here, and that would be a little awkward to explain. Otherwise...”

“They're about? Does that mean Turbo's there at least?” Turbo was a sweet guy. Scottish, had a bit of trouble communicating sometimes, but absolutely deadly with an SMG.

“For headset sex?” Apparently it was his turn to tease.

She was startled into laughing. “Only you, Mack. Only you. No, I want to go shoot some fuckers in the head!”

“Sorry, Dee, you're on your own tonight.” He really did sound sorry, too, which somehow made her feel a little better about the whole thing.

“Well, fuck. Oh well.” She shifted until she was sitting sideways on her couch, one arm going behind her head on the couch's arm to prop her up as she lay back. The controller went on her stomach. “So what was for dinner?”

“Pancakes.”

She put one foot up on the cushion, knee bent in the air. “Really? You cooked pancakes?” Her dubiousness was clear in her voice. He'd told her that while he was good with his hands, his skills didn't really extend to the kitchen.

“One of my roommates did.”

“Jealous!” It would be _nice_ to have a roommate that actually cooked. Thor had cooked. Kinda. He and Jane had a habit of getting 'distracted' halfway through. “Was there bacon, at least?”

“No bacon.”

“Fuck, Mack, that's a _damn_ shame. Pancakes without bacon is just about the saddest thing I've heard all week.” She stared at the ceiling, picking out patterns in the texture. “Now I'm gonna have to cook some bacon just to make up for this grave imbalance in the Force.” She was pretty sure there was some in the fridge.

“I am just about to be jealous.”

“Tell you what. You show up at my door within the next hour, and I'll keep some bacon for you. After that, though. All mine. I'd say I'd be naked, but the grease... Naked bacon usually not such a good idea. Still, feel free to imagine me naked.” He chuckled and she paused for a second, enjoying the sound. “Oh! Did I tell you I have a job interview tomorrow?”

“You did not. That sounds promising, though. What for?”

“Some PR thing. I'd have to move, but they said they'd take care of it for me.” She made a face. “I hate moving. Still, though, be nice to finally use my degree. And from the way the guy was talking, it basically sounds like I have the job already and the interview is just a formality. It was the weirdest thing, though, they said they got my name from...” The tricky part of her life, the part she couldn't talk about. “A friend. Still, good to know people.”

There was a long pause. “Mack? Still there?”

“Yeah, Dee, still here. I gotta go, though. You enjoy that bacon for me.” And he was gone before she even had a chance to answer.

She shrugged. This wasn't the first time that had happened. He said he was a mechanic, but she got the impression he worked for some sort of fire station or other emergency-type-place.

Darcy sat up and swung her feet over the side of the couch, standing up. There was no way she wanted to play any more Call of Duty. Either it would be made of suck, or she'd have to deal with the mouth-breathers that failed at life when they realized she was a girl. “Fuck gaming,” she muttered, setting the controller down beside the TV and turning her system off.

That was the reason she'd first started hanging out with Mack. He hadn't been a doucheweasel, and she seemed to keep running into him, so she took a chance and added him to her buddy list. It had turned out to be the right call, they made a pretty good team, and he was pretty awesome as a person. A considerable amount of flirting back and forth had developed over the time they'd known each other, which Darcy did _not_ mind at all. She had no idea what he looked like, but his voice was sexy as _fuck_. She would _fuck_ his voice, if that was actually possible.

“Alright. Bacon time.” She moved through her apartment to the kitchen, where she pulled a package of bacon out of the fridge. She would cook the fuck out of some bacon, so the next time she talked to Mack, she could tell him it tasted like awesomesauce and freedom.

\---

There was a rather insistent knock at the door. “What the fuck?” Darcy mumbled as she was pulled out of sleep. “It can't be-”

Her phone told her that it was precisely 6:13 in the morning. “Better be a fucking emergency.” She pulled herself out of bed and grabbed the nearest clothes she could find. She was half-hoping that whoever was at her door would give up by the time she'd wrestled on a bra and pulled a shirt on, but there was no such luck. If anything, the knocking was getting more and more insistent.

Shoving her hair out of her face, she made her way through the apartment to the front door. She picked up her TASER from the table beside the door and held it tightly in her right hand, opening the door to keep it hidden. “Ho-lee shit.”

She knew that apologetic smile. “I'm going to have to ask you to come with me, Ms. Lewis.” Agent fucking Coulson, in one of his endless dark suits, was standing in her doorway with an absolutely resolute expression on his face.

Darcy squinted past him to where a black SUV was parked out in the street. “How about fuck no, and I taze you, and then lock the door and call the police?”

That disapproving look, she knew that one too. Excessively. “Ms. Lewis, I have reason to believe that your life is in danger.”

She shook her head. “Yeah, welcome to Darcyville. That's sort of how we roll. Hence the TASER.” She clutched it a little tighter, ready to throw back the door and let him have it if she needed to.

“Oh, just shoot her, already,” came a _very_ impatient British voice from... _above_ her? What even was this? Was he being sarcastic? She couldn't tell, but Coulson didn't seem to have a gun. _Seem to_ probably the most important part of that observation.

She moved to shut the door, but one black shoe insinuated itself between the door and the door frame, preventing her from doing exactly that. Her shoulders slumped in resignation. Maybe if he thought she gave up, she could taze him and shut the door before British Guy noticed. “Fucking really, Coulson? It is too damn early for this shit. You woke me up, I haven't even had coffee...”

Except then she felt the TASER plucked neatly out of her hand. She turned around and saw a woman for whom the term _badass_ must have been fucking invented. The woman pocketed Darcy's TASER, pointing a fucking _gun_ at her. She inclined her head towards Coulson.

So apparently this whole 'come with me' thing wasn't actually a _choice_ thing. “Yeah. Um... Can I pee first? Is that okay? You kinda woke me up.”

Coulson and Badass Lady sat in her living room while she went pee and even took the time to brush all of the sleep out of her hair. It was tempting to call for backup, but Darcy liked to think she was a capable woman, able to handle herself. She couldn't be calling demigods for every little bump, bruise, or kidnapping.

When she came out of the bathroom she tried, but Coulson drew the line at coffee, and Darcy was quickly bundled into the SUV.

Badass Lady was driving and Darcy ended up sitting behind Coulson. British Guy opened the door and slid in beside her, and then they were off.

“I'm sure you'd like some answers,” Coulson said, sounding slightly apologetic.

“Uh, yeah. Be... Be nice, right about now.” She eyed British Guy. He didn't _quite_ have his weapon pointed right at her. Not _quite_ . He wasn't even really looking at her, but Darcy had the distinct impression that any sudden movement would be a _bad_ idea.

“Do you keep up with the news, Ms. Lewis?”

“Are you _shitting_ me, Coulson? Seriously right now?” Asking someone with a poli-sci degree if they kept up with the fucking news. “If you're going to fuck me around, at least buy me some dinner.”

He cleared his throat. “Then you've heard of HYDRA.”

“Oh, yeah.” She widened her eyes and nodded. She had- loudly. At great length. It was a... sensitive topic for Steve.

“We believe that your job interview today was with HYDRA.”

“Okay.” Darcy took a deep breath. “Coulson, much love, but if you want me to process this shit you're coming out with right now, I'm going to need to get my caffeine and blood sugar levels a _lot_ higher first. Because what you're saying right now isn't even registering as making sense.”

“You can eat breakfast on the Bus,” he told her.

They were taking a car to catch a bus? “That sounds like a punchline,” Darcy muttered. But no one else spouted any acronyms at her for the duration of the drive.

Which was out to an abandoned field. Well, _this_ was no good. It was awfully... Abandoned. And fieldy.

And no one was getting out of the car.

Just as Darcy was getting ready to call for backup via Heimdall, a jet just sort of shimmered into view. Darcy just stared, open-mouthed, as the SUV drove up the ramp onto the thing.

And the ramp closed.

Darcy peered frantically around. “Are you kidnapping me right now?” Calling for backup was sounding more and more tempting. But. When Thor had offered her the option, he'd told her that she was _absolutely not_ supposed to use it, unless her life was actually in danger. And she didn't actually _know_ she was in mortal peril. They'd even let her pee. Chances seemed good that they wouldn't let her pee if they intended on killing her... right?

“We prefer the term 'enforced rescue,'” Coulson answered, opening his door. He got out, buttoning up his suit and he pulled himself to a standing position.

“Uh huh.” A glance over at British Guy indicated that getting out of the car was probably in her best interests as well. She opened her door and stepped out onto the ramp.

Badass Lady was already moving. “Wheels up in five,” she tossed over her shoulder as she hustled over to a tight circular staircase. Which meant they were... Taking off? This was just getting better and better.

“If you'll come with me, Ms. Lewis.” Coulson gestured towards the staircase.

Darcy rolled her head from side to side, cracking her neck. “Yeah. Why the fuck not.” She moved over and went up the stairs. Maybe Heimdall would send Sif. Sif was awesome and a half, and deadly as _fuck_.

It wasn't too long before she was buckled in at a table with a bowl of instant oatmeal and a steaming cup of coffee in front of her. Coulson was sitting at the table too, and British Guy had disappeared somewhere.

Coulson filled her in. Like, just... everything. HYDRA, the whole brainwashing thing, the fact that she had ties to both SHIELD and the Avengers, and that made her a target... So apparently this whole kidnapping deal had helped her dodge a pretty big fucking bullet. Not that she was going to thank him.

And she had a job. Yeah. Suddenly and unexpectedly- Coulson said that with the amount of information and connections she had, they couldn't let her run around out in the world. All apologetic, of course, but firm. She could either work for them or sit in a little hole in their basement- and really, the job option sounded a lot more appealing. Political analyst. That was her job title. Apparently she was going to get a lanyard.

\---

As soon as they landed and she got off the jet, Darcy was bombarded by a pair of men who looked basically the same and had a millionty and one questions for her, and then a pretty young doctor who gave her a more thorough physical than she'd ever had in her life, and then she was kinda set in a hallway and forgotten about.

She heard voices, though, voices that sounded suspiciously familiar. So she followed the direction of said voices, walking down a warehouse-kinda hall and then around a corner and into what looked like some sort of living room deal.

“Mack?”

Two pairs of eyes fastened on her, one blue and one brown. Silence. Then, “Dee!” That was definitely Mack. And holy _fuck_ , he was cut. Fucking gorgeous. Her fantasies had been pretty, well, fantastic... Paled in comparison.

He strode over to her and pulled her into a hug, and she noticed he was pretty much the same height as Thor. She had a lot of experience with Thor-hugs. “I'm glad you made it. How was the bacon?”

“You're really tall.” She winced almost as soon as that came out of her mouth. Not exactly her finest moment. It had been a long day.

That rich chuckle. “So they tell me.”

She pulled back and looked up at him. His shirt had no sleeves, and thank whoever first made sleeveless undershirts. “Sorry. Today's been...” She trailed off and shook her head.

“No worries. Hey, this is Turbo.” He gestured to where a very shy-looking man with curly hair was hanging back.

“Or Fitz,” the shorter man told her. That was definitely a familiar voice, too.

“Yeah. My name's actually Darcy, if you didn't... You knew that, didn't you?” She shrugged. Of course they did. “You a hugger, Fitz?” She didn't know him nearly as well as she knew Mack, but he looked like he could use a hug. “I'm all about personal space, but hugs are good.” He kinda nodded, so she went over and hugged him. A little awkward, but still good.

Pulling away, she turned back to Mack. “So, are you actually Mack? I mean, that's probably what I'm going to call you anyway because of voice association, but...”

“Yeah. Alphonso Mackenzie, I prefer Mack.”

“Alphonso? That's kind hot, actually, but I can see why you stick with Mack. So,” she glanced between the two men, “SHIELD, huh? I thought you guys were firefighters or something, but this does explain the emergent absences. Lucky coincidence, or Agency-sanctioned stalking?”

“Coincidence at first. When we started hanging out together so much, Skye- our computer person- looked in on you.”

“Yeah. I have... a past.” She shook her head. “A SHIELD-involving past. Well, now I'm your new political analyst. So, yay using my degree, right?” She was still a bit dubious about that whole thing. But a job was better than 'protective custody.'

Mack smiled. That just wasn't right, the things that did to her nervous system. “Congratulations. You had the tour yet?”

“No. So far I've had my lower intestine measured, donated about three pints of blood, and I think I faced the Spanish Inquisition, but I got fun prizes.” Darcy held up her lanyard.

“I'll show you around.” He walked over and brushed his hand over her back, gesturing with the other one back out the way she'd come in. “Seeya in a bit, Turbo.”

He started with the bunks which were... Not at all private. Like, at all. That was something he definitely hadn't been exaggerating about. He told her she could crash there or on the jet for some additional privacy, but there wasn't much there, either. There was a locker room, a kitchen, a shooting range that was _on the side of a hallway_...

Darcy turned and looked up at Mack, resting her ass against the counter along the shooting range. “Coulson was saying I have to learn how to shoot. You gonna teach me? Posture, how to handle it, all that?” There may have been some innuendo in her tone.

He smiled, folding his arms across his chest. _Damn_. “Could do. I don't see a lot of field action myself, though.”

“I probably won't either, to be completely fair.” She glanced down the hallway, the one direction they hadn't gone. “What's down there?”

He turned to look in that direction. “Storage. That's where inventory starts.”

She nodded, thinking. “It seems like this place is mostly hangar and storage.”

“It is. With so few of us, we need to remain mobile.”

That made sense. “So...” She let her eyes move slowly over the tall man, bottom to top. She thought she'd caught his eyes lingering appreciatively a few times, making her next question a little less potentially embarrassing. Hopefully. “What are the policies on in-house fraternization?” She'd developed a little more than a crush talking to him while they gamed, and now...

“Don't let it affect your work.”

“Huh.” She let her fingertips drum against the counter behind her. “That's interesting. 'Cause I don't think any fraternization will affect my ability to wade through politics. How about you, Mack? Will a little fraternization affect your mechanical ability?”

Mack gestured to her, almost beckoning, and she pushed away from the counter, moving over to his side. “I should probably show you that storage room. If you're on base staff, you'll probably end up doing inventory eventually.” His hand slid across the small of her back.

“That sounds _great_.” She nodded, walking the rest of the way down the hall towards the door at the end. She was very aware of the steady presence of his hand spread across her back.

He reached out in front of her and opened the door, holding it easily as she walked inside. It looked... Well, it looked like a storage room. Boxes and crates everywhere, those stupid metal shelves with the holes all along the supports.

“If I ever do get assigned inventory, I'm probably going to need help,” she told him, hands coming up to rest on her hips as she looked around.

“Why's that?”

“I'm short. No way I'm reaching all the way up there. Luckily for me...” Darcy turned towards Mack, running her hands up over his chest until they rested on his shoulders. “ Maybe I know someone who might be tall enough to help?”

“You ever need a hand in here, you let me know.” His hand hadn't left her back as she moved, and now the other one came up to join it, holding her loosely against him. “You do realize that anyone else could walk in at any second, right?”

“Yeah. That's why we're gonna go way in the back and be super quiet.” She grinned.

He did too, and that grin did dangerous things to her heart rate. His hands fell away and he turned, leading the way through the maze of shelves to what appeared to be a corner- brick wall on two sides and a shelves of tall boxes blocking off the third. He held up one hand to motion for her to stay put, and then disappeared.

Darcy stood there, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot. She was just about to send out a search party when he came back, a blanket and pillow held easily in front of him. He spread them out over the floor and then sat down, patting the blanket beside him.

Instead of sitting beside him, though, she sank down to straddle his lap, her thighs cradling his lean hips. She raised her eyebrows questioningly, and when he nodded, she bent her head down and kissed him. His lips were generous, full, she might have been tempted to stay there for hours, just moving her lips against his, if they weren't in danger of being interrupted at any second. As it was, she sucked his lower lip into her mouth, her hands moving to the waist of his jeans. The urgency, the worry that they _might_ get caught was exciting somehow, and Darcy could already feel her body responding, the low heat of arousal.

She released his lip, moving to undo her own jeans and slide her hand inside. It was a bit cramped, the angle a bit awkward, but she slid her middle finger down to rub over her clit. “How about I come, and then turn around and put that pillow under my knees, and you grab my hips and fuck me until you come?”

“Dee...” Half-appreciative, half-pleading, the low murmur pulled at her. One hand came up to encircle her breast, closing his thumb and finger around her nipple even through her shirt and bra. Mack ducked his head, his lips seeking the side of her neck. He kissed and nipped his way from her shoulder to just below her ear and back again. Every so often his tongue would flick along her skin, and she had to concentrate to keep herself quiet.

She was rocking over him, grinding against the awkward slide of her finger and the growing bulge just under her hot center. It felt incredible, more than masturbating usually did, her pleasure rapidly spiraling up and up.

When his teeth closed over her earlobe, she shattered. She stilled in his lap, biting her lips together to keep from wailing her ecstasy. As she came down from her high, she slid back a little and shifted, bringing one slightly-shaky leg over his thighs and turning away from him. The pillow was there, and she knelt on it, quickly pulling her pants and panties down over her ass before bending over, leaning on her forearms on the blanket. The floor was hard against her elbows even through the blanket, but she couldn't really bring herself to care.

She heard the distinctive rip of foil, then Darcy felt his hand run up the back of her thigh and over the curve of her ass before settling on her hip. She felt him, the blunt head of his cock rubbing over the slickness she'd created, and then the slow, deep glide as he pushed his way inside.

Once fully seated, though, he picked up a rapid tempo, snapping his hips against her ass enough that she closed her teeth over the skin of her arm to be quiet. Deliberately, she clenched around him, hearing the barely-audible groan in response to the hot squeeze of her muscles.

She moved back into him, meeting him as he fucked her like he was trying to make his way out the other side. She clenched again, and his thrusts started growing irregular, ragged, until he was jerking to a stop, his pelvis flush against her ass.

They stayed like that for a few seconds, both trying to catch their breath. Eventually, though, Darcy straightened up, feeling him slip out of her. “My elbows feel all bruised to hell,” she observed, twisting her arm in front of her to see that her elbow was indeed alarmingly red.

“Your elbow- my knees.” Mack didn't sound any more upset about it than she did, though.

“More pillows next time? Thicker blankets?” She pulled her pants and underwear up before getting a little unsteadily to her feet. “I'm sure we can figure something out.

She heard the intake of breath as he started to answer, but the door opened just then, and a very doubtful, “Agent Lewis?” came from British Guy. Hunter? Hunter. That was his name.

“It's Darcy. Yeah. I'm just...” She turned around and caught Mack's eye as he pushed himself to his feet, too. “Fucking Mack. You need something?” Mack arched an eyebrow at her words.

“Are you really? I can't tell if you're serious or not.” He sounded like he really couldn't, and Mack hid his smile behind his hand. “Look, Coulson's looking for you.”

“I'll be right there.” She rested one hand on Mack's chest, slipping the other behind his neck. He let her gently pull him down, and she gave him a quick kiss before doing up her pants and trying to retrace her steps through the labyrinth of boxes to where Hunter was still waiting in the open door for her.

Hunter's eyes moved over her, narrowing thoughtfully, but he didn't say anything.

 

**Author's Note:**

> RARE PAIR!! This is legit for the [Cheesy Tropes and Rare Pairs Challenge](http://fuckyeahdarcylewis.tumblr.com/30dayscheesyandrarepairschallenge), for the online relationship prompt.


End file.
